Peanuts
by Crazii Choco
Summary: Mac is sick and won't stop barfing, and it's all because of the peanuts Mr Herriman put in last night's fudge cake by accident. But what do you do when you find out peanuts weren't actually put in the fudge cake..?
1. Mac is throwin' up, but why?

**Hey Foster's fans! I just wanna make a quick note about this first chapter/start of the story - I wrote this chap kinda as a one-off thing like over a year ago and didn't think I was really gonna continue it, but recently I've decided I wanna carry on with it and have written 2 more chapters... now, I wanna point out that the standard of this chapter is pretty low compared to the other two, & i am gonna improve this one, but i just wanna say pleaseee read on 'cus it does get much better and Chapter One doesn't lay out the standard of what the whole story's gonna be like (: thankyouuu!**

**Ooo another point! I know Mac is meant to be about 8 years old in the series, but in this story I kinda see things as a bit more grown-up and realistic so I've moved the time frame about 5 years… so Mac is about 13 ½ whilst this is all happening :) enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Foster's.**

All had been going well in the Foster's house - Mac, Bloo, Eduardo, Wilt + Coco had just sat down to play a board game in one of the bedrooms upstairs, and everyone had been feeling pretty alright for the past ten minutes. But all of a sudden, Mac didn't feel alright at all. His stomach had started to churn and he was beginning to feel pretty sick. He didn't know whether he was gonna puke or burp or something, and he had a familiar feeling about this indistinction - it was just like how he'd felt the last time he'd ate nuts.

"Mac? You don't look so good."

Mac didn't feel like talking either. He was worried he'd definitely be sick if he tried to talk. Mac glanced in the mirror across the room. Even his face was tinged slightly green.

He felt his stomach starting to boil up, going all bubbly.

"Urp!" he said, clasping his hand over his mouth. He knew what was coming next. Quickly he got off the floor and dashed out of the room.

"Mac! Where are you going?" Bloo was right behind him. He didn't know that Mac was heading to the bathroom and he didn't know how awful he felt.

It was too late. Mac puked all over the red carpet on the landing. Bloo was commenting in disgusting, saying things like "Ew!" and "Gross!" and then he ran back to the bedroom to tell the others.

Mac felt rather woozy. He tried not to step in the vomit. But then he felt another load coming up again and dashed to the bathroom.

He managed to barf into the toilet this time, but then he felt really weak and collapsed on the floor.

Mac woke up to see Wilt hanging over his head.

"Mac? Are you okay, buddy?" He asked him, looking concerned.

He felt totally washed out, and he betted that he looked terrible.

"Yeah…" he whispered weakly. Mac tried to sit up but then he felt an awful twang of pain in his stomach. He winced.

"Ooh!" said Wilt, "Try and lie back down, Mac. You musn't move much if your stomach hurts. I'm really sorry to say this but I think you've got a bad stomach bug."

Obviously the others had found Mac and put him in a bed in their room.

"No." He said, his voice a bit wispy, as he eased himself back down. "I think it was those peanuts in the cake last night. I think I'm allergic to nuts."

"Cocoocooo – cocococococococo!" Coco pointed out.

"No, they shouldn't have put peanuts in the cake." Mac said, "But they didn't know I was allergic."

He looked around the room. It was only Wilt and Coco.

"Where's Bloo and Eduardo?" He asked weakly. Mac was starting to feel a bit pukey again. Luckily there was a bucket beside his bed, he assumed Wilt had put it there.

"Well…" Wilt looked a bit nervous. "Bloo's downstairs, eating lunch. I'm sure he'll come up to see how you are in a minute or so."

"Cocococoocoocoocococo." Coco stated, and Mac figured that she was the one telling the truth.

Apparently Bloo wasn't really downstairs, he was hiding because he thought Mac had caught a dreaded virus and he definitely didn't want to catch it. How selfish could he be? Mac was meant to be his best friend yet he still didn't want to see him and wish him well.

Mac suddenly felt the peanuts rising again. He grabbed the bucket and had a long barf into it, much longer than the two sicks he'd performed before. He really hoped it was his last barf. When he lifted his head out of the bucket he saw that Wilt and Coco were grimacing at him. But Mac was sure they understood.

"Don't worry. I'll be better soon. The last time I ate peanuts I was only sick for a day." He said shakily.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get better soon, then, buddy." Wilt said, being really re-assuring and smiling. He took the puked-in bucket from the side of Mac's bed, and trying not to look inside, he went out of the room to wash it out.

Wilt went into the bathroom to throw the barf down the toilet. Unfortunately Frankie was cleaning the sink and caught a whiff of the chuck.

"Eww- what's that smell, Wilt? I think you might've been eating too many peanuts."

"No, Frankie. Mac's been sick. He was sick twice last night as well - he says it's because of the peanuts. He's allergic to them." Wilt explained.

"Aww, poor Mac." Frankie said, looking sympathetic. "I hope he gets better soon. When did he eat peanuts?"

"Well, he said they were in the fudge cake last night, but he didn't realize. Neither did Mr Herriman know that Mac was allergic to peanuts."

Frankie suddenly looked a bit puzzled. "Mr Herriman never _did_ put peanuts in the cake last night…"

??

…


	2. The fudge cake Mystery

"Cocococococo, cococooco cococococo cococococo COCO!"

Coco had just started reading a story to Mac to ease him back off to sleep – seeing as he'd just thrown up again, she knew it was a caring move. The story was called something like _Cheese's Grand Day Out_.

But Wilt interrupted just as Mac's eyelids were drooping – he arrived back with the now-clean barf bucket and a really serious look on his face.

"Mac, I know you need to sleep, buddy, but I just gotta make sure of something.."

He plonked the bucket back down beside the bed and crouched down, closer to Mac now.

"Uh-huh..?" Mac replied sleepily, "what is it…?"

"Are you _sure_ you haven't had anything else with peanuts in or just peanuts other than the fudge cake last night?"

Wilt looked quite concerned, and that wasn't like Wilt. Mac was wondering if he was getting a bit paranoid over the peanuts.

"No." He shook his head slowly, "The only peanuts I ate were in the cake.. I can remember tasting them."

Wilt looked to the floor. He wasn't quite sure what to say next.

"Well, I'm really sorry to be the one to have to tell ya this, buddy… but… apparently Mr Herriman never did put peanuts in the cake last night."

"Mac?!" Frankie suddenly entered. Everyone looked towards the door. She immediately rushed over and started stroking Mac's head. "Are you okay? Wilt's told me you've been sick…"

She stroked his fringe for a few seconds longer, then felt his forehead.

"You do feel a lil' hot… want me to get you anything?"

"No, I'm okay.. thanks."

Frankie bent down to the level Wilt had been at. He was now standing up, keeping his lips tight. He knew Frankie would say something about the no-peanuts-in-cake situation next. Coco had also been keeping quiet, studying the whole thing with her birdy eyes.

Frankie clutched Mac's hand on the bed, and gave him the same look Wilt had done.

"Now honey, were there or were there not peanuts in the cake last night?"

Within a few seconds, Mac had started to look distinctly nauseous again.

"One sec-"

He bent over the side of his bed, in quick preparation. But Frankie lifted up the bucket for him and the audience waited for another round of Mac-regurgitating.

He heaved about three times, but nothing seemed to come out.

"Cocococo coco." Coco stated. (Translation: "It's just dry heaving.")

Suddenly Mac coughed, and something did come out. Like some kind of tiny pellet. Once he knew he definitely knew that was all he was producing this time, Mac pushed the bucket towards Frankie.

"Look." He said.

Frankie, Wilt and Coco all leaned their heads to peek inside. Lying right in the centre of the depths and the darkness of the plastic bucket, surrounded by a small puddle of spittle, was an object which could not be mistaken: a rather small, wet, non-chewed whatsoever, looking just like brand new – PEANUT.


	3. The Meeting

Hey, I just wanna say a big thanks to **Mac-a-lacka** (nice name btw!), **RenesmeeScarlet** (thanks for your tips, I am gonna update first chapter, that was written quite a long time ago and does need some improvement), and **ahiru56** (don't worry, the truth MIGHT just be revealed if you read on ;].. but also, we might NEVUH KNOW XDDD!) for all your awesome reviews (:.. I know I hadn't updated this for a while and thought about maybe just leaving it as it is, but now I've added chapter 2 I've decided I wanna carry on with it and just try and make it a bit more, y'know, exciting?

Also I really miss writing on here… soooo… here's Chapter Threeeeee =D

**RATED T FOR SOME DRUG REFERENCE**

______________________________________________________________________

Eduardo stomped into the dining hall, followed by about 20 odd other imaginary friends and more still pouring through the other door. They'd all been urgently sent to the hall for some 'important meeting', and anticipation was high amongst all the made-up creatures as they had not been told what this particular meeting was about and had no idea what to expect.

Eduardo kinda had a jist, though – after Wilt had been away looking after Mac for about an hour or so he'd wondered where he'd been. He'd asked him on the way down if Mac was okay and if he had ran out of the room in the middle of their game to be sick.

"Yeah, Mac's not well at all, Ed." Wilt replied calmly but still with a tone of worry as they descended down the staircase together, "He's thrown up 3 or 4 times in the past hour, but at least he's asleep now."

"Why you think poor Mac's not well, Wilt?" Eduardo asked more questions in his Spanish accent.

"That's what we're gonna find out in about.." Wilt stopped on the stairs to glance at his wristwatch on his long, twig-like arm – "..15 minutes. Frankie's putting together a meeting in the dining hall, and I can't tell ya right now how that relates to Mac being sick, but you'll be there, ok, buddy?"

Wilt patted Eduardo reassuringly on the back as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Eduardo nodded slowly.

"Ok. I just hope Mac will be ok soon."

"I'm sure he will - look, I'll catch ya later." And with that, Wilt had ran off somewhere, presumably to help with this mystery meeting.

And now it was 15 minutes later, and Eduardo could see Wilt slumped forward in one of the alcoves in the dining hall wall, his lanky legs noticeably jutting out, cradling his head in his hands. Coco was sitting with him, too – she must've witnessed the sickness. Eduardo began to wonder why he wasn't there with Mac whilst he was puking, like the others had been. He felt a twinge of guilt in his left horn.

At the front of the room stood Frankie, Mr Herriman, and Madame Foster. The tension was pushed up a few notches out of the comfort zone when the imaginary friends caught sight of the serious looks on their faces – had some illegal drugs been found in the washing room? Had Duchess been at the coke again..?

After everyone had entered they all assembled themselves in chairs that had been laid out for them. It ended up looking like some kind of school assembly or church arrangement, and the guys at Foster's weren't used to that – they'd only ever had to have an 'important meeting' like this one once or twice before, and the last one had been a loooooong time ago, probably too long to remember.

Even after a few more minutes there was still bustle and constant curiosity chatter between the chairs – but then Mr Herriman made it loud and clear it was time to shut up.

"SILENCE!!!!!!!"

Of course, the bunny rabbit made it work. With her screeching voice, Frankie would've been just as effective, too, but Mr Herriman had beaten her to it. With her need-for-attention streak and most knowledge about what was going on, Frankie was the one to take over when all was quiet in the dining hall. She stepped forward.

"Now, if you're all wondering why we've-"

"We've summoned you here today to ask a series of _serious_ questions.." Of course, Mr Herriman interrupted rudely with his competitive nature. He always had to be the main voice for things and always get straight to the point.

Frankie glared at him and stepped back, defeated, to let him carry on.

"Don't be frightened, now, we just need some information from _certain members of this house_.." he tilted his head and looked over his glasses. How could anyone not be frightened by that?

"Now, as you all know, last night for pudding I produced a rather marvellous fudge cake.." Further glares from Frankie – she'd made _most_ of that cake! It had just been Mr Herriman who'd decided whether to put any extra things (i.e peanuts) in the mixture.

It was Madame Foster who interrupted this time, starting with her usual jolly laugh, which really didn't fit the atmosphere.

"Yo ho ho! It was lovely, too, my dear.. did you all enjoy it, dearies?"

Simultaneously, Mr Herriman and Frankie clapped a hand to their faces as a few 'Yes's were heard from the audience.

"_Not the time, Granma!" _Frankie hissed, as Mr Herriman continued.

"If you'll all excuse, for the moment, whether or not the cake was exceptionally enjoyable.. although I must say, I am rather proud of it.. I must ask, and this being a _serious matter_… did _any_ of you whatsoever taste _peanuts_ in the cake last night?"

There was a dramatic pause, and then the crowd burst into laughter. No such thing as a peanut allergy existed in the imaginary world, and so they had no idea how peanuts could be so '_serious_' or fatal to anyone.

Eduardo was conforming, giggling away, and then caught sight of Wilt and Coco's disgusted faces. He immediately slowed down, realizing this was somehow associated with Mac.

Frankie was gearing up to put an immediate cut to the guffawing.

"SHUT _UP!!!!"_ she screamed. The audience was hushed much quicker than Mr Herriman's previous yell. She pushed a flick of hair that'd come loose with the stress of shouting behind her ear, and continued the talk calmly.

"You guys don't know this, but peanuts can actually-"

"_Master Mac is VERY allergic to peanuts, and SOMEBODY HERE is responsible for DELIBERATELY putting them in HIS cake last night!!!" _Mr Herriman interrupted abruptly again, but this time he felt more agitated and, as I mentioned, he's a straight-to-the-point kinda guy.

Seconds after laughing their heads off, members of the audience were now gasping and looking at each other in shock and suspicion. Madame Foster gasped over-dramatically along with them, putting her hands to her face and pretending (or had forgotten in her old ago) she didn't already know. Frankie and Mr Herriman ignored her.

"-But Mr Herriman, we don't know for _sure_ that because there were peanuts in Mac's cake someone else put them there," Frankie whispered to Mr Herriman, whilst the crowd continued to create noise over discussing the matter. "I mean, you still didn't get a proper answer as to whether the others had peanuts in their cake too."

"But how else could they have gotten in there?" Mr Herriman replied, "Somehow someone must've sneaked them into the mixture."

Eduardo had been one of the many gaspers in the audience, as he now knew, along with Wilt and others who had been around him whilst he was vomiting, why he was sick. And he really wanted to give whoever put peanuts in Mac's cake a good, nice kick in the…

Wilt suddenly got up and quickly began to approach Frankie and Mr Herriman, during their discussion and whilst everyone else was still discussing. His face was the most serious it'd been all day.

"Guys, I think you better have another look around the room…" he said. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

"What do you mean, Wilt?" Frankie asked, puzzled.

"Yes, speak more specificly." Mr Herriman joined her.

Wilt's eyes began to dart around the place.

"Everyone knew about this meeting, right?"

Frankie nodded.

"Every single imaginary friend was informed of this discussion, yes." Mr Herriman was beginning to sound hasty.

"Then…" Wilt continued, swallowing hard,

"why isn't Bloo here…?"


	4. Bloo & Delilah

Blooregard Q. Kazoo was slumped in the arms of Delilah, a strange girl he saw a lot of nowadays. They'd both despised each other at first meeting, (which I'll talk about later), but soon after had realized how much they actually shared in common with one another. Since then they'd grown quite attached, and Bloo visited her most weeks, mainly when he was bored. They were lying on her bed in the small flat she lived in about 5 blocks away from Foster's, and were discussing pop-tarts.

"Heh-heh, yeah.." Bloo replied in answer to Delilah's previous point, "-and I _loveeeee_ the ones with sprinkles on them, too- don'tcha just love those ones? The sprinkly ones..?"

"Yeah, Bloo, I do…" Delilah said, beaming with her bright smile and blue eyes into Bloo's even Blooer eyes, "…We can get some from WalMart later if you're staying til after dinner…?"

Bloo twisted his lips. He _seriously_ adored that offer, he _definitely _did wanna stay and hang out some more with Delilah and then go to Wal-Mart wit Delilah and _then _eat dinner with Delilah and _then _consumebeautiful sugary sprinkly pop-tarts with Delilah til his teeth ached and stomach hurt like nothing else _then_ have some more fun with Delilah, but he knew he couldn't. Although it didn't matter whatsoever to him, he'd already skipped some meeting thing at Foster's to go see Delilah, and was probably missing out on some important gossip. Plus, he'd had a night planned with the boys (such as Wilt & Eduardo) in the arcade playing Space Invaders, and he was desperate to see the looks on both of their faces once he finally beat Eduardo's high score. Although he was still quite torn between the two, so he frowned to show Delilah his indecision and disappointment that going back to Foster's would have to be the _final_ decision.

"Sorry, D, as much as I'd love to do that _so_ much… I think the folks need me back at Foster's, which sucks ass, I know… how about tomorrow?!"

Delilah's expression turned from peaceful to pissed. She pushed Bloo off her stomach, sat up, crossed her arms, and smooshed her face into a glare. She was always so good at these facial expressions. And although he'd known her for about 6 weeks now, Bloo still seemed to fall for them.

"Awww, D, come on…!" he cried, clinging to her arm.

Delilah's face suddenly became manic, and she laughed in Bloo's face, poking him hard.

"_Haha!_ You're too easy, B! As long as I get to go to-"

"-_No!_" Bloo said, suddenly holding her long fingernail back with one arm, catching on that she was at it again, asking if she could visit Foster's this time to see him. She'd been doing it for the past month or so, and he just managed to stop her every time before she got too deep into the gritty details. No matter how much she pried and asked "Why the hell not, B?" or moaned "It's not freakin' fair! You've been round here about a_ million_ times and I haven't been round there _once_!" he'd just answer "No!" in order to stop them going any further through the doors of Foster's. It was like there he'd never talk about Delilah, and with Delilah he'd never talk about Foster's. He liked to keep both parts of his life on secretive terms for different reasons.

"-_Uhhhh! Beeeeeeeeeee!!!!_"

This time it really did seem Delilah meant it when she glared once again and began beating the bed mattress with her fists. She stopped, her nostrils flared, and stared at Bloo with flying daggers.

"_-_But you _PROMISED_!"

That was true. Bloo had mentioned the last time he'd seen Delilah – and maybe the time before that – AND the time before that – that he'd let her come to Foster's the next time she went to meet him… but he still didn't feel like letting her see that side of his life even though he trusted her _almost_ completely. What would she think of it? She probably wouldn't want to hang out with him anymore after meeting some of the others (who had _way_ different interests to him, even including his creator Mac) who lived there with him.

He tried to perform the puppy eyes on her again.

"-I know, D, and I'm sowwy…"

"-I'ma find my own way there!!" she said, her face suddenly jumping at his again, her arms now clasped tightly around his, teeth gritted. She was such a psycho at times. "I'm telling you, I bet it's easy…You said it's 5 blocks-!"

"-It's-" but Bloo couldn't argue. He was actually getting into the Delilah-dare state of mind again. Y'see, B and D always had bets on that one of them couldn't perform a specific task, just like mischievous mates do, and past examples had included whether Bloo could run around Delilah's whole block in the total nude (even though that didn't take much – he's practically naked, anyway, so he won that one), whether he could eat 20 super-sharp-fudge-fudgies in one go (only just won that one), and whether Delilah could shoplift 4 items from the make-up section at Walmart (of course, Delilah got away with that one).

Bloo immediately began chattering again.

"-Okay… I _bet_… that you can't make it to Foster's by 1'oclock tomorrow!"

They were both grinning their evil grins simultaneously, their faces just a few centimetres apart. But Delilah's grin was still the widest and creepiest.

"_-It's awn, Mr. Poptart!" _


End file.
